100 O Sacred Head, Now Wounded GOOD FRIDAY
Words: Bernard of Clairvaux, 1153. Translated by James W. Alexander, 1830.
Music: ’Passion Chorale’ or ’Herzlich Tut Mich Verlangen’ Hans Leo Hassler, 1601. Adapted by J.S. Bach, 1729.
Setting: Johann Sebastian Bach, 1729.
copyright: public domain. This score is a part of the Open Hymnal Project, 2007 Revision.
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1. O sac red Head, now wound ed, with grief and shame weighed down,
2. What Thou, my Lord, hast suf fered, was all for sin ners’ gain;
3. Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee, Thou no ble coun ten ance,
4. Now from Thy cheeks has van ished their co lor once so fair;
5. My bur den in Thy Pas sion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
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Now scorn ful ly sur round ed with thorns, Thine on ly crown;
Mine, mine was the trans gres sion, but Thine the dead ly pain.
Though migh ty worlds shall fear Thee and flee be fore Thy glance.
From Thy red lips is ban ished the splen dor that was there.
For it was my trans gres sion which brought this woe on Thee.
O sac red Head, what glo ry, what bliss till now was Thine!
Lo, here I fall, my Sa vior! ’Tis I de serve Thy place;
How art thou pale with an guish, with sore a buse and scorn!
Grim death, with cru el ri gor, hath robbed Thee of Thy life;
I cast me down be fore Thee, wrath were my right ful lot;
Ps 22:6-8, Is 53:4-5, Jn 10:14-15, 10:27-28, Heb 12:2 76767676
GOOD FRIDAY 100(2)
Yet, though des pised and gor y, I joy to call Thee mine.
Look on me with Thy fa vor, vouch safe to me Thy grace.
How doth Thy vis age lan guish that once was bright as morn!
Thus Thou hast lost Thy vi gor, Thy strength in this sad strife.
Have mer cy, I im plore Thee; Re deem er, spurn me not!
6. What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.
7. My Shepherd, now receive me; my Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me, O source of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed me with words of truth and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led me to heavenly joys above.
8. Here I will stand beside Thee, from Thee I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide me! When breaks Thy loving heart,
When soul and body languish in death’s cold, cruel grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest anguish, Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.
9. The joy can never be spoken, above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken I thus with safety hide.
O Lord of Life, desiring Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring, I’d breathe my soul to Thee.
10. My Savior, be Thou near me when death is at my door;
Then let Thy presence cheer me, forsake me nevermore!
When soul and body languish, oh, leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish by virtue of Thine own!
11. Be Thou my consolation, my shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion when my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfolds Thee. Who dieth thus dies well.
Ps 22:6-8, Is 53:4-5, Jn 10:14-15, 10:27-28, Heb 12:2 76767676
